


Sanctuary

by givemeunicorns



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Malec Secret Santa 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 01:20:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9049474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givemeunicorns/pseuds/givemeunicorns
Summary: He knew the smell the clung to the sheets, to his clothes and skin. Jasmine, cinnamon, black tea, expensive cologne, and the subtle burnt ozone smell of magic. Everything about the apartment smelled like Magnus, like home.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [malecyday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malecyday/gifts).



> My malec secret santa gift for @malecyday! Merry christmas and I hope you enjoy!

Alec woke up alone, in a bed that wasn't his. Months ago, that would have panicked him, but now he knew the smell the clung to the sheets, to his clothes and skin. Jasmine, cinnamon, black tea, expensive cologne, and the subtle burnt ozone smell of magic. Everything about the apartment smelled like Magnus, like home.

He sat up and stretched, a choice he regretted almost instantly, his shoulder and ribs groaning in protest. When he'd fallen asleep, they'd both been fractured, the iratze on his hip burning as the magic knit the bones back together. Carefully, he rolled his shoulder, took a few deep breaths. The bones were sound, but the muscle would remain tender and bruised for days, he was certain. Shadowhunters may be part angel, but their bodies were human all the same. Human bodies got tired, human bodies hurt. Alec let his eyes fall closed again, settling back into the softness of Magnus's bed. _Their_ bed, he corrected himself. It was a thought he was still adjusting to, belonging somewhere that wasn't the Institute, belonging to someone who wasn't a shadowhunter. A shift had happened, almost without him realizing it, that this place had become more of his home that the stone walls he'd always known. Magnus's apartment was different. Alec had always lived in the Institute, and he loved it, but it was a place designed for battle, a house full of warriors waiting for orders. There were rooms for eating, for training, for strategizing, for learning, for sleeping, but there was no space in the whole of the Institute that was simply designed for the comfort of living.

Magnus's home seemed to exist for that very purpose, a refuge where the High Warlock of Brooklyn could rest. No matter how many times he “redecorated”, no matter where in the city he moved the space to; there was always something solid and real about it. The furniture, the address, and the view all changed but the atmosphere of home did not. It was warm, comfortably lived, even when it was brand new, shelves stacked with books in languages Alec didn't know, littered with treasures from times and places he'd never seen. There were always people coming and going, look for help, for safety, sometimes just for someone who had lived as long as they had. If the Institute was a fortress; Magnus's home was a sanctuary.

Alec let that thought settle on him for a long moment, burrowing into the warmth of the blankets again. He could hear Magnus moving around in the kitchen, feeding the cat, from the sound of it. Alec smiled at the small patter of pawed feet and the forlorn meow that followed. Chairman Meow, the fat little tom that Magnus had insisted on taking in had become quiet demanding since he'd settled. Alec's peace with the feline was tenuous, each one regarding the other with distant tolerance, for Magnus's sake. In the moment, there were no demons, no Valentine, no looming threat of war, just them, just this. Contentment.

With a sigh Alec pushed himself stiffly out of bed and padded to the kitchen. Magnus stood at the stove, pouring water from the kettle into a porcelain tea pot. He wore one of Alec's teeshirts, a hair too big for him though the shoulders, sleeves rolled to his elbows, his hair tugged back in a small knot, all the edges of him soft. Alec smiled. It was a Magnus not many people got to see. Alec leaned against the counter, pulling one of Magnus's oversized sweaters off the kitchen chair, shrugging into it like it was second nature.

“Morning,” Magnus said over his shoulder, “You want some tea?”

Alec nodded.

“Please.”

Chairman Meow hopped onto the edge of the kitchen island, offering Alec a sideways glance before he fixed his attention back on Magnus. There was something blissfully mundane about the whole thing, as if they hadn't spent last night fighting an army of demons. As if Magnus's right cheek wasn't still the sickly yellow of a healing bruise, his lip still swollen where is had been split. The fight had been the sort of brutal, ugly close quarters fighting that suited neither of them well. Without thinking , Alec closed the distance between them, pressing his long frame against the length of Magnus's back, arms loose around his boyfriend's waist, chin resting on the warlock's shoulder. Magnus settled into the touch without question, the weight of him firm and familiar against Alec's chest.

“How's your shoulder?” Magnus asked.

“Sore but it's mending,” Alec admitted, nuzzling the line of Magnus's neck with his nose, “ Nothing's broken anymore. What about you?”

“No worse for wear it seems. The marks should be gone by tomorrow,” Magnus replied, leaving the tea to steep as he turned in Alec's arms to face him “Let me see.”

Alec rolled his eyes. Magnus had little love for Alec's sometimes spartan ways of dealing with injury and Alec had learned to pick his battles. Alec took a step back, pulling his shirt gingerly over his head, his shoulder stiff and slow to cooperate. Magnus's brow furrowed the way it always did when he was thinking, looking at the ugly mess of blueand purple that molted the muscle on Alec's shoulder and side.

“May I?”

Alec nodded, holding back the little shiver that ran up his spine when Magnus's ringless fingers came in contact with his skin. The magic ached as it worked its way into his muscles, painfully hot for a moment, before the pain began to ease. Alec took a deep breath and let it out, marveling at the change. The skin still wasn't pretty to look at but he could move again. He rolled his shoulder carefully.

“That should help,” Magnus said, almost smugly, seemingly pleased with his own handy work. He ran his hands across the curves of Alec's shoulders, and Alec let himself savor. Magnus was a physical, tactile person, always moving always touching, but he was so careful and aware of Alec's space, even now. Alec reached, thumbing the cut on Magnus's lip gentley.

“I wish I could fix it for you,” he said quietly.

His humanity didn't bother him so often as it once had but there were times, when the weight of it felt like and inadequacy. When he was hurt, Magnus was always there, healing flesh and soothing the pain in was his runes couldn't. Magnus's simply smiled, making a pleased sound as he leaned into the touch.

“I know you do, but I don't need you to fix me Alexander, ” He said honestly, “I just want to be close to you.”

Alec grinned, without meaning to. No matter how many times he heard the words, they lit a fire inside of him, one that he had spend a long time trying to smother. The fact of the matter was, Magnus didn't need him. He was the High Warlock of Brooklyn, he'd lived and survived and thrived for hundreds of years. He didn't need the shadowhunter in his life to survive, but he wanted him there, wanted him enough to push and fight for him. For Alec, who had always based his own worth on his usefulness, on being necessary, the idea had been foreign and frightening. The warlock had made a space in his life for Alec that demanded nothing more of him than to be present, to be real. It had taken a lot of work, to pull down all the walls the two of them had put up, to find a space to meet one another, but here they were, half dressed in Magnus's kitchen, holding each other like there wasn't a war on their doorstep. Alec let his arms circle Magnus's shoulders, leaning into kiss him, gently. Magnus's smiled against his mouth, leaning into his chest.

“Tea's getting cold,” he breathed against Alec's mouth when they parted.

Alec caught Magnus's hand, pulling him back towards his...no their, bedroom.

“You can always make more,” he teased, releasing in the laugh that garnered from the warlock.

“I can always make more.”

 


End file.
